Spun
by epiphanies
Summary: He was following her again, and she had the desire to turn around and smack him, harder than she had in the bar.- Jack meets a London woman in Tortuga and humour, anti-romantic romance and delight ensues!
1. Default Chapter

Spun

by : epiphanies

Part One

Jack Sparrow was a filthy, lying, layabout, good-for-nothing pirate who liked rum. He liked to bake in the sun and watch it set, he liked to feel the sand on his ship beneath his feet, he liked to sweat until his shirt bled with it. He liked to sail and be a captain and be in charge. He liked making people wonder about him. It was a part of who he was, after all. 

At the moment, the most important part about him, however, was that he did not, did definitely not, fall in love.

Contrary to popular belief, piracy isn't a romantic career. Sure, there would be cheap wenches and rum, and one was never sure which was the cheapest. There would be the captured and sometimes the captives, and there would always be that one drunken time with the cabin boy, if at the time he had a cabin boy, but none of it meant anything.

That's why he liked his rum best, more than his mates, only an inch less than his ship herself.

Aurolyn Siskin, however, didn't like watching pirates get drunk. 

Aurolyn Siskin didn't like getting drunk herself.

Aurolyn Siskin didn't like wearing her heavy dress in the Caribbean, she didn't even -want- to be in the Caribbean, she just wanted to go home. To London. To be pretty and fair-skinned and desirable to all of the men that she would never allow to have her. She held her chastity as a prize in the palm of her innocent little hand, and men had been trying to pry it open with money, fragrance, alcohol and words ever since her thirteenth birthday five years before.

In fact, the only reason that she was sitting in the God-forsaken Tortugan pirate bar was that her father was a very important man who was to meet with another very important man - Aurolyn didn't like to think of her father as a bad man, although he was to just about everybody but she herself. He struck deals and carried a pistol and didn't mind shooting anybody - as long as his lovely daughter was not present. She knew this, and considered him a good person for it.

He was currently sitting in the back room of the bar - or, she thought, a common whorehouse - striking a deal with a very important member of the - what shall she call it, the dark community? The black market community? She left it, in her mind, as the Pirate Community, because she disliked pirates, she had ever since she'd been robbed by one in the streets of London. Of course, everybody knew that pirates didn't run about London, but he had been wearing scarves and braids and the like, and so she reckoned him a pirate anyway. He taken her favourite gem necklace.

She leaned against the darkest corner of the bar, sipping at her drink. She hated to drink, for it put her in a lazy state of mind, and she liked to be sharp. However, they didn't seem to serve anything else and having to drink nothing but red wine the entire trip from London to the Caribbean, she was dying for something that didn't taste as putrid.

She braced herself as a man swaggered toward her, wearing a tri-pointed hat and carrying a pint of what she assumed was rum. Pirates drank rum, did they not?

"What's a young thing like you doing in a place like this?" he asked her, not bothering to ask before sitting down beside her. She raised an eyebrow, but she doubted he could see her through the thick darkness. She could smell the rum and could tell by the way he'd walked that he was overly intoxicated.

"Do you come here often?" he asked, not noticing that she hadn't responded to his last question.

"Certainly not," she answered shortly, pressing out her skirts. He smirked at her.

"Ah, a London Lady. I reckon you have people on business here, then?"

"Why would you assume something like that?" she snapped. He held his hands back,

"Hey, darling, just a guess. I suppose I'm right now, aren't I," he slurred, "Or else you wouldn't be fitting about it."

"Perhaps I'm 'fitting,' as you say because I don't feel like having this conversation with such a person as you are."

"Fine, lass. Your loss."

She realized suddenly what he had been trying to do. As he stood up and began to walk away, she said angrily,

"You think I'm a whore?"

He spun around, likewise to a ballerina, she thought, and stared at her.

"A scarlet woman," she fumed, standing up to meet him inches from his face, "a common wench?"

"Er," his eyes were swimming in their sockets, but landed on her finally and said, "Is this a trick question?"

"No," she snarled, and slapped him.

He blinked and touched his pinking cheek with a frown at her, "What was that for?"

"For thinking of me that way," she glared at him, turned on her heel and stamped back to her table. 

As the bar made their way back into conversation, for everyone had seen the scene, he meandered back to his stool, rubbing his infirmed cheek.

She sighed as she sat back down and took a swift swig from her mug. 

"A wench," she muttered disgustedly, "Do I look like a wench? Of course I don't. Lousy stupid fool blighter."

She didn't notice that she'd never before said that word before entering the bar. -Blighter.- It was seeping into her veins.

Her father appeared at her elbow just then and whispered, "You alright out here, darling?"

"I'm fine," she muttered, and he touched her arm, "I have to go out to one of the ships here for the goods. Are you all right getting back to our room safely, or would you rather wait here and I'll walk you when I return?"

"I want to go back now," she decided, "I'm fine to go back."

And she was fine. She paid for her drink, left her mug, and headed out the door. 

She wasn't five feet from it when she smelled rum. She whirled around to face the pirate that had cornered her only a quarter of an hour earlier.

"What is your business in following me?" she demanded, and he smiled, "Darling, I thought my business was of no value to you."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "I already told you that I'm not a whore. Will you not go and find one that is willing to be filthy with you? I have no desire to be with any man of your particular ilk."

She turned and began to stalk away when he asked, "And what particular ilk is that, Missy?"

"You're a pirate."

"And?"

"And what?" she furrowed her brow, still not turning or stopping, and he was following her.

"I'm a pirate. What's the matter with that, love? Most women find it all sweeping and romantic."

She turned on him and he nearly fell over, "What do you want with me?"

He raised an eyebrow, and she could stand his cockiness no longer. She pushed him. He fell into the sand, sloshing his drink all about his front. He sputtered, then said in a considerably more sober voice, "You didn't have to do that."

"Apparently, I did. And now," she pressed her lips together, "I'm leaving. Don't you follow me."

"Why?"

"Because you're dreadfully smelly and I don't need you to dirty the doorknocker of where we're staying."

He was following her again, and she had the desire to turn around and smack him, harder than she had in the bar. Instead, she turned and hissed, "Stop following me."

"Stop following me," he mocked her with flailing hands, then studied her growing murderous expression.

"Love, I'm just havin' a bit of fun," he exclaimed, patting her shoulder, "I'm not going to try and give you money for favours."

"Then what are you doing?" she said, holding her hips haughtily. He frowned.

"You just looked like you needed to loosen up a notch, darling. Well, I'm done. Have to get back to me ship," he tipped his hat and turned around, "Goodnight."

She stumbled, "But, but-"

He turned and raised his eyebrows, "Miss?"

She blinked and shook her head slightly, "Goodnight."

He nodded at her, in an infuriatingly promising way, and made his way to the docks in the moonlight. She noticed as she watched him that not only did he not turn back, he didn't stumble at all. She had a strange feeling that the rum either hadn't been drank, or he was completely unaffected by it. She wasn't sure which put her more ill at ease.

She opened the door to her cabin, and remember that she hadn't even found out the mysterious pirate's name. 

Odd, she thought as she pulled her covers about her, ready to fall asleep. She noticed the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, and smiled. Finally, something in this place that she could appreciate.

Before she knew it, she had been rocked to sleep.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Part Two

Spun

by : epiphanies

Part Two

-

The world spun and the sun rose over the dappled shore, and Aurolyn squinted into it, holding a hand to her eyes. 

That, whatever it was, that she had been drinking the night before... she couldn't....for she had such a terrible headache ... had she walked home herself... and had she spoken with a real, honest-to-goodness pirate?

She stood and glanced into the looking glass. She made a face at her darkening skin and her dishevelled blonde hair. She looked a mess, complete with the dark circles beneath her eyes, which refused to disappear even after she scrubbed and scrubbed. 

-

Captain Jack Sparrow awoke to a rather unpleasant surprise.

"Anamaria!" he gasped, staring into the exotic brown eyes that had been haunting him - literally, she was a monster, the object of his nightmares at points in his life - since the day they'd met, fourteen years before when she'd been only thirteen. She was so pretty then - one could hardly tell of the little lady she had once been now. Rugged and manly was more a term to describe Anamaria, but one dared not to tell her that. 

She had perched upon his leather red stool that was beside his bed in the Captain's Chamber, crossed her legs and folded her arms. How long had she been staring at him?

"Jack."

He sniffed himself - smelled normal. He glanced at himself - completely clothed. He tried to remember the evening before - to no avail.

"You're angry with me," he squinted at her, as the sunlight had just begun to pour into the chamber. She glared at him.

"What?" he sighed, exasperated, "Did I steal another one of your ships?"

Her eyes narrowed, "Aye, that would be like you."

He raised his eyebrows, "Well?"

She cocked her head, "You've no memory of last night in the pub, do you?"

"I must admit that, no, I most certainly do not."

"You made yourself a fool."

"Astounding, Ana, simply moving."

She smacked him lightly on the cheek, and it hurt. It really hurt. He touched his cheek and frowned. She grinned at him.

"Do you remember now?"

He shook his head, touching his stinging cheek, "Did you beat me?"

"Can't say I didn't want to."

"You're daft, woman. Tell me what I did wrong so that I can walk the plank for it in peace."

She hit him again,

"You're not the kind of man who doesn't remember things when he gets lovelier," she looked skeptically at him, "Any man of your particular ilk."

##

"And what particular ilk is that, Missy?"

"You're a pirate."

##

"Ah," he said softly, touching his cheek, "The London lass."

"You followed her home, Jack," Anamaria shook her head at him, "You're becoming more a danger to yourself every evenin'."

He frowned, "How so?"

Anamaria rolled her eyes, "Jack, you dog, she's most likely the child of some rich english poofter who wouldn't waste a second blastin' your ruddy head off. You coulda had yourself killed."

He shrugged, "It would be your ship then, wouldn't it?"

She hit him again.

"Ouch!" he called as he flopped down into the bed again as she shut the door behind her.

His eyes roamed about the chamber for a moment as he tried to remember what the young woman had looked like - blonde hair, London dress. Green, perhaps blue eyes? A mole on the left side - well, her right, his left - of her neck. Clean fingernails and a pouting mouth - or perhaps it was only pouting because he had followed her home - no, not home. To a room, where she was staying.

He bolted upright and smirked at the door.

Anamaria had no idea what she'd done.

-

  
  


Well, she looked better than when she'd woken up, she supposed. She'd changed into a silken sashed gown with brass buttons and lace covering a more revealing part of her bosom. It was the colour of Japanese blossoms, her father had said, and she could only trust to believe him.

Deciding to get a drink - hopefully something less hard than the night before had entertained - she left her room to head over to the pub. She hadn't gotten two inches into the street before she was literally run down by a running man. When they collided, they both seemed to fall over.

She didn't notice him until he rose and held out his hand. She took it, the sun in her eyes, and half-smiled.

When she locked eyes with the stranger, the smile slipped off of her face.

"You," she hissed, pulling her hand away, "Get off me!"

His eyes widened, "Begging your pardon, Miss. Didn't mean to run you down."

"I'm sure," she said icily, "Well, I'll be on my way."

"Your way?" he said dubiously as she tried to pass him, "Where is Your Way? Is it like My Way only yours? Or does anybody really have a way?"

She stopped and glared at him, but he only continued, "I mean, what a way away from another way? It could be yours, it could be mine, it could be ours," his eyes widened as he beckoned to a man sitting in an alley corner, covered in hay, "Maybe it was even his way, before he turned into a useless lump. Hell, darling, perhaps it's nobody's way at all."

"Perhaps," she said with gritted teeth, "You should get out of -my- way so that I don't throttle you until your head pops like a bottle of warm champagne."

He smirked, displaying a full row of golden teeth.

"I like you," he decided, pointing at her as she rolled her eyes, "You've got gal."

She pushed past him into the busy street, but somehow he kept to her elbow.

"So, darling, have you a name?"

"Pirates aren't proficient in foreseeing where and when they're unwanted, are they not?"

"Ah, but love," he stopped her and stood close, close enough that she could smell his breath, which ranked of gin and pepper and rum, "Pirates are wanted everywhere, because pirates have treasure."

"I see little on you that is worth anything, save your teeth."

"Not all treasure is silver and gold, darling," he smiled, letting her go, "Remember that."

With that statement, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving her there alone and completely mystified.

  
  
  
  


-

  
  


Prrrp. I don't understand why people flame. I really don't. It's rude and actually kind of the softer kind of evil. But, alas, I am used to it and therefore it does not affect me. However, it does affect other writers I know, so I suggest that all of you very bored morons out there who insist on flaming continue to do so to me, and not to the rest of this very fragile population of writers here on ff.net, where people are supposed to be able to write what they want without repercussions. And hey, I've been trying to figure out what a Mary Sue is ever since I came on this site, so if I'm writing one I have saved myself the search (so thanks!) 


	3. Part Three

Spun

Part Three

by : epiphanies

  
  


Aurolyn had absolutely nothing to do on this island. One could either be thieving or whoring. The day was treated as the evening, as to everybody sleeping. By three o clock she was the only one walking the roads.

She hummed to herself, picking up her skirts as to keep them clean from the dusty paths. She heard something stir behind her; she spun around and saw nothing. Her eyes narrowed.

She didn't like this. Not the noises, not the heat, not this island, not the Caribbean. She could barely force herself to like her father for bringing her here.

She eyed the swinging door to a tavern.

Perhaps it's just the wind, she thought.

Perhaps not.

She climbed the step and swung open the door to see a lone man with his back to her.

She'd seen him enough in the past day to recognize him without a second glance.

She cocked her head and rolled her eyes as she joined him on the stool next.

He noticed her and smirked, "Curiosity killed the-"

"Pirate," she glared at him. He rolled his eyes a bit,

"Why are you so rough up on pirates, love?"

"One robbed me once."

His eyebrows rose, "In London?"

She nodded defiantly, "And he most definitely was a pirate."

"Could have been," he agreed, "Where most pirates come from."

Her brow creased, "London?"

He nodded, "Aye, London. Where I'm from."

"You're not serious."

"Born and raised."

The bartender slapped two tall glasses of rum in front of them. She eyed it and then the bartender, and took a swig.

When she finished, the pirate was sitting facing her with his hand out.

"Captain Jack Sparrow," he offered, and she noticed that his hand was the dirtiest she'd ever seen. It must have been the rum. She shook it.

"Captain of what, this puny island?"

He glared at her a bit and then puffed out his chest, "Nay, a ship, my dear. A ship called the Black Pearl."

Her eyes widened considerably, and he grinned.

"You're not serious," she said quietly, "That's only from fairy stories."

"You want to see it, Miss...?"

"Siskin. Aurolyn Siskin."

"That's a lovely name, Aurolyn," he tipped his hat and winked, "A little bit ladylike, isn't it?"

She was about to take his arm so that he could show her his "ship" when she stopped and stared at him.

"I'm a lady!" she exclaimed, and he pouted a bit at her.

"Are you sure?"

He slung his arm about her and she shook him off, "Of course I'm sure!"

"Then why, my dear Aurolyn, is there a pistol stored in your garter?"

She nearly fell over.

"How," she hissed, pulling him close to her by the scruff of the neck, "Did you know that?"

"Outline by your dress and the way you're walking, love," he shrugged, his eyes widening as she let go. He touched his neck.

"That was sure ladylike."

"Jack, was it?"

"Aye, love."

"You're obviously smarter than you look. So, please, consider that indeed, I do have a pistol lodged in my garter."

"I am."

She squinted at him as they emerged into the sunny deserted town, "Are you sure?"

He stopped her and opened his frock to reveal his own pistol. She saw a hint of an amused sneer in his face, "Most definitely."

She smiled at him and continued to walk.

"Darling, why do I get the feeling there is something about you that I should know?"

She shrugged, "I don't suppose that I know, Captain."

He seemed to relish in the latter word, allowing her to think a moment about her own mother. For it hadn't been until the evening before that she could even remember anything about her. Actually, it had been in her dream. And Aurolyn hadn't remembered her dream until she had learned Jack's name, nay, the name of his ship.

  
  


****

Aurolyn was sitting in a room with magnificent tapestries, but it wasn't an ordinary room. It was rocking. Somehow she knew that she was on a grand ship, a ship called the Black Pearl. She found herself in a magnificent ebony dress and had silver all about her wrists. She glanced into the looking glass and found herself wearing a different nose. Her skin was darker. Her eyes were older. But other than that, she was the same.

"Rose."

She whipped around to see a dashing young man with dark eyes enter the chamber. Aurolyn gasped ; he had called her Rose! But who was Rose? And who, who was he?

"Are you worried about them, Jack?" she found herself asking, and she thought to herself, 'I sound like Rose.'

"Worried about who?" he asked roughly, sitting down next to her and taking off his tri-cornered hat.

"The crew. Barbossa has been looking gleeful lately," Aurolyn said gently, and her hand was touching his leg in an all-too-familiar way.

"Rose," he placed his mouth on her neck, "I could kill them all."

"No, Jack," she pulled away, and she felt the tears in her eyes, "You couldn't."

He looked away from her, outside to the moonlight.

"I'm dropping you in Tortuga tomorrow."

"What?" Aurolyn cried, "No, Jack. They'll kill you! I won't leave you."

"You're going back to the island," he growled at her, then stood and left the chamber with the slamming of the door. Aurolyn felt hot tears cascading down her cheeks and heard her mother's thoughts....

'Oh, please, don't let them kill him....He can put me on Tortuga but he can never make me go back to London, never...'

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


****

  
  


They ended up at the beach, sitting on a pile of rocks. Her hair was whipping about and hitting Jack in the face.

Aurolyn knew that it was the exact same as her mother's.

She watched him carefully, and the third time her hair stuck in his mouth, he blinked.

"Jack?" she raised her eyebrows at him as he stared at her.

"I..." he squinted, then shook his head and turned away.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," he frowned at his hands, and wrung them together, twisting the rubied rings and watching the gold sparkle, "nothing."

She watched the sun set and wondered, despite herself...had her mother loved Jack? Why had Jack approached her in the bar? What had happened after that night, the night that her mother had cried herself to sleep? Did she get dropped in Tortuga? Did she go back to England? Where did her father come into play?

Her world had been so easy only a few days before. 

  
  


****


	4. Part Four

Spun

Part Four

by : epiphanies

  
  
  
  
  
  


...taking a few steps back....

Rose quickly wiped her tears when she heard heavy boots approaching. She reached over to a top drawer and felt around until she found what she was looking for. With a last sniff, she slipped the dagger into her garter, stood up, and smoothed out her dress. The door opened, and there stood Jack.

"Time to go," he said softly. He wouldn't look at her. She narrowed her eyes.

"Make me walk the plank."

He met her eyes then, and they were in pain, sufficient pain for a man who had already tried to drink his woes away. She stepped forward and slipped her hands behind his neck.

"You do not wish to say goodbye, Jack."

He leaned into her, nearly breaking, she felt him, and then he kissed her with such a softness that he had never kissed her. He pulled away and gently removed her hands from his neck.

"I don't plan to," he whispered sadly, and pulled her out of the chamber. 

  
  


...

"So," Jack turned to Aurolyn with a rather raw lip, "You wanted to see me ship?"

She hesitated. Did Jack know who she was, was that why he was acting oddly? Had he known since the very night before? But she couldn't ask. Perhaps if the crew of the Pearl saw her and asked, everything would come out.

She took his hand and let him pull her up off of the dune, "Of course."

...

What was a maiden to do on the island of Tortuga? Alone? Without her lover or her friends, or her ship that she had come to know as home? 

Rose shook out her hair and squinted as the Pearl disappeared into the ocean line. 

"Goodbye, Jack," she whispered regretfully, then turned away. 

She meandered into a bar on the only strip Tortuga patronized and walked past the sultry women wearing too much face paint.

One called out, "Why, if it isn't Rose Sparrow."

Rose whipped around, "I have never been called that, and if one does continue to call me that, they shall be truly sorry."

"She's touchy," she heard whispered as she turned back around, "Her darling fledgling has sailed off into the sunset without her."

"No doubt with that young dark thing, Anamaria."

Rose clenched her fists, sighed, and released them as she swung unenthusiastically into the tavern. She was ravenous.

"Pint, darling?" asked the serving wench. Rose checked her saddle bag, the only purse she owned, and found a lonely piece of eight. She held it up, and the wench nodded.

She slipped it across the bar and it was replaced with a foaming tub of alcohol. She sniffed it. Rum. She took three steady swigs, then caught her breath. She had never been interested in heavy drinking, but then again, she'd never been marooned on a pirate island by her pirate true love seeking for her a long, prosperous life without him.

"Jack is daft," she found herself telling the wench, "He doesn't think I'll end my life for him? I'll stay with him even if they have a mutiny?"

"They want to mutineer Captain Jack Sparrow?" the wench gasped, and Rose nodded fervently, "They're all daft!"

"Do you think they'll kill him?" asked a redheaded barmaid who was serving wine to the more refined customers.

"Of course not," Rose glared at her, "They'd stick him on a tiny island with nothing but a pistol. That's the harshest of deaths, for a pirate. Want to go out fighting, savvy?"

The latter word shot a venomous arrow straight through her heart, and she began to cry.

"Oh, love, don't worry," the redhead patted her comfortingly, "He's Captain Jack Sparrow. He'll rope some sea turtles and escape to find you."

Rose raised her head to glare at the maid, "That's daft and impossible."

The wench shrugged and filled another pint ("on the house,") and Rose returned to her sobbing.

  
  


....

Aurolyn took a ginger first-step onto the rocking ship called The Black Pearl. Jack eyed her with a slightly-more-than-mild interest.

If she wasn't related to...he blanched and gulped a little bit as her hand ended up on his shoulder for a split second....if she wasn't, may the Powers help him, he was in trouble.

  
  
  
  



	5. Part Five

Spun

by : epiphanies

Part Five

Aurolyn drank in with every sense the world around her. It was if stepping onto a ship made her entire world change. Rock. Sway. She felt with a deep rooted twinge of guilt like a real swashbuckler. She turned and grinned at Jack, still holding onto the ledge.

The corners of his lips twitched and she noticed that his kohl was a bit smudged. She let go with one hand and pressed a finger to the crinkle of his eye. He stepped backward, and she frowned.

"Sunburn, love," he raised an eyebrow, then took her hand instead. She held back crinkling her nose - at home, she would never had touched such a generally dirty looking man. His fingernails were the grittiest she'd ever seen.

At least, until she stepped onto the top deck. -Everybody- was filthier than Jack there.

"Oi, men!" he shouted vigorously, raising his hands into the air. She raised her own plucked eyebrows at him, seeing the change in his behaviour change like an eclipse covering the moon.

"Aye, Captain!" the crew shouted back, and a shaggy man with a parrot stepped forward. The parrot screeched, "Ghosts roam these parts, aye!"

Jack sent the parrot a surprised gaze, then winked at Aurolyn. She wasn't so sure that the parrot was wrong - hadn't she just had dreams about Jack and her mother?

She was curious, as he led her around the ship, introducing her to the crew, if the bedroom of the Black Pearl still looked the same, with the magnificent tapestries and candles. If he still hid his weapons in that great chest.

"So Jack," she cocked her head, and he turned swiftly to face her. 

"Darling?"

"How long have you been Captain of this ship?"

His eyes narrowed at her, "Forever."

Her eyes widened in mild surprise, "So you've never not been Captain?"

"What does it matter, love?" he smirked, "I'm the only one that matters, the only one that loved this ship the way she was made to be loved."

"Are you a good man, Captain?"

He frowned at her, "What's your meanin'?"

She rolled her eyes impatiently, "Besides drinking and being a pirate, I mean. Do you have morals?"

He eyed her, and pouted a bit, then turned away.

"You know who you remind me of, love?"

"Who?" she was genuinely curious as he led her toward the bow of the ship. He turned around when they reached it, closed his eyes and placed her in front of him. She felt his hands leave her shoulders and she heard his boots stroll away.

"Who?" she demanded again, turning around. He raised his eyebrows at her, "Oh, that. Her name was Elizabeth."

Aurolyn's eyebrows snapped together, "Who was she?"

Why not my mother?

"Love, she was a spoiled little princess whose father practically owned all of Port Royal."

"Did you love her?"

He snorted, "Are you kidding? She was my best mate's son's wench, not mine. Much too young for me."

He turned and started down the steps when she opened her mouth again.

"Have you ever loved anybody?"

He froze.

"Other than picking up wenches, or maids that look like them, in seedy bars on this island?"

Her tone was vicious. She knew it was. She didn't even know why she felt such an anger toward him.

He recognized that anger. That tone. He'd frozen because it was if he'd been transported back to when he'd been on this island with the one person he indeed had loved. 

And he wondered how long they would continue in this hurricane circle before actually speaking about their common interest in Rose Barrett.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Anamaria nudged Gibbs, and he glared at her. She motioned to the young girl Jack had brought onto the ship.

"Not another young lass on here," he groaned, and she stuck her elbow further into his ribs.

"Wha'?"

"Doesn't she remind you of somebody?" she hissed, and Gibbs shrugged, "You've known 'im longer, remember, Ana? And I'm dreadful with faces."

"I was twelve when my father was a pirate under 'im on this ship," she narrowed her eyes at Aurolyn, "She looks just like the Missus he 'ad on 'ere then. Taller, maybe. Identical."

"Maybe that's why he has 'er on 'ere, Ana," sighed Gibbs.

"Joshamee, don't yeh get it? Must be 'is daugh'er."

She removed her elbow from his tummy to tell the rest of the crew.


	6. Part Six

Spun

Part Six

by : epiphanies

-

Aurolyn found shade underneath the mast. She wiped her brow inconspicuously and glanced around the ship, lifting her peach-coloured dress from the sloppy deck boards.

Jack had returned to his place at the rear of the ship, and at the moment he was speaking to a vast man with viciously striped socks.

Aurolyn raised her eyebrows as Jack narrowed his eyes at the other pirate and poked him in the chest. She frowned as he turned away in a sweeping move and smiled broadly at the only other woman on the ship - Aurolyn hadn't noticed her before. She was tall and willowy, with dark skin and darker eyes. She had obviously been raised on board the Black Pearl.

The dark woman nodded briskly to Jack, and jumped off of the top deck. She headed toward Aurolyn.

Aurolyn's eyes widened and she shrunk further back into the shadow of the mast. As the woman swept by, she said, "Captain wants you below deck."

Aurolyn blinked, and stepped out to face her, as she was walking away.

"Why?"

She whirled around and landed her gaze on Aurolyn's dress. She smirked.

"He wants a word."

"What's your name?" she asked as the woman began to turn away. Craning her dark neck, the woman answered,

"Anamaria."

"Aurolyn."

Anamaria headed to the bow of the ship, "Aye."

-

Below deck was smellier than above deck. At least there was a pleasant breeze on the main deck. Just when Aurolyn was afraid she wouldn't be able to stand it much longer, Jack stepped down, a streak of sun illuminating his Caribbean-baked cheeks. He eyed her miserable look and chuckled.

"You think being a pirate would be glamourous, darling?"

Aurolyn quirked an eyebrow. He quirked one right back, then jerkily motioned his head upward.

"Come on, now. I'll show you where the _real_ heart of 'er is."

-

Aurolyn didn't want to tell Jack that she knew every nook and cranny of his bed chamber. After all, she wasn't supposed to be having dreams about his affair with her mother.

As the heavy door swung open and Jack spread his arms frivolously, a thought occurred to her that hadn't.

She couldn't be Jack's daughter.... could she?

He noticed her widened eyes and touched her arm gently.

"M'dear?" his eyebrows creased together, and she looked up at him wildly.

"What year were you mutineered?"

His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as the Captain took a shaky step backward, letting go of her forearm. He surveyed her, top to bottom.

"Why would you think that?"

She stared at him, nearly as shaken as he was. She drew an unsteady breath and clasped her hand to her flat, buckled tum.

"Aurolyn?" he gazed at her through deep brown eyes, gaining his footing again and reaching for her. She was the one who backed away this time. He pulled back, obviously hurt.

"Jack, I-"

His lips were set as he shook his head slightly to himself and turned, marching out of the bed chamber. She was left there, alone.

Her head was spinning.

How could it have not occurred to her before? How could she not have realized that if her mother and Jack had been in a relationship, of some substance, that she could very well be...well, not who she thought she was?

She slumped onto the crimson sheeted bed and laid down on her back, feet dangling over the sides. A tear slipped down her cheek and into her hair. She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath through her nostrils, trying to calm herself.

-

Meanwhile, Jack decided to have a heart-to-heart with a dear old friend - one who wouldn't be afraid to slap him if he was impertinent. He needed an objective judge.

As they settled down in the kitchen with a pint of rum each, Jack raised his and said, "To crazy young lasses, who show up out of nowhere and tangle your brains until you don't know left from right."

He had been expecting her to glare at him, but instead, a little gleam awakened in her eyes.

"What?" he pouted, putting down his drink and gazing at it disappointedly.

"Jack," Anamaria's eyes narrowed, "Don't you notice how much that girl looks like-"

"Of course I noticed," Jack said serenely, "Why else would I have toasted to her like that?"

"Well, you're obviously 'fected by her, aren't yeh?" she growled, motioning at his hands, "You've not taken a sip yet."

He raised his eyebrows and downed half of the mug, then smiled satisfyingly at her. She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled.

"Weren't you just worried about something?" she said heavily, and he shrugged slightly.

"What rum's good for, darling."

She caught his arm as it raised for a final swig.

"What is it?" he said impatiently, and she glared at him (finally, he thought.)

"Why aren't you telling me?"

Jack frowned at her and placed his drink loudly on the rickety table,

"Telling you _what_?"

"About _her_, you bloody lunatic. Did you know about her, before?"

"Before _what_?"

"Before you met her, for bloody's sake! Oi, Jack, what's cutting you loose?"

Jack slammed down his drink again, and took both of her arms in his hands from across the table.

"Listen to me, Anamaria. Now, I've no bloody clue what you're prattling on about, and I'm a little might drunk. So, let's skip all of this extravagant nonsense and get to the point you're trying to make."

She glared at him.

"Er..." he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at the ceiling, "Now....what was the point you were trying to make?"

"Soddin' hell, Jack," she wrenched herself out of his grip and brushed herself off as she stood, "I just wanted to know about your ruddy daughter, is all."

Jack then fell promptly off of his chair.


	7. Part Seven

Spun

by : epiphanies

Part Seven

I know it's been forever. :P

Aurolyn's eyes flew open as somebody pounded at the door. Once - twice - three times-

"Come in," she quickly wiped the tears off of her cheeks and smoothing out her dress.

The door, like her eyes had, flew open like the latch had been broken to reveal none other than Jack - Jack, who had wild eyes and one finger pointing at her.

She frowned, "Jack, what's the-"

He interrupted her, stepping toward her in a furious, heavy way.

"How old are you, child?"

She furrowed her brow, then looked away. His eyes grew larger.

"How old are you?" he roared, and she flinched.

"Jack, I'm eighteen. _Eighteen_, got it? How long has it been since you last saw my mother? Was she eighteen, Jack? Was _she_ eighteen when you let her have me, all alone on the insipid little island that you picked _me_ up on?"

Jack quieted for a moment, and sat down beside her. She watched as his eyes calculated, and met them when he looked up at her.

"I'm not your father, Aurolyn. Stop staring at me like that - I'm not. I last saw your mother - it was much later than that, I'm sure."

They stared at each other for what seemed like years when Aurolyn finally realized what he had said.

"What?" she exclaimed, as his eyes rolled back into his head and he flopped back-down onto the bed they sat on.

She turned to him as he closed his eyes,

"Don't avoid looking at me, Jack. Look at me. I'm the daughter of somebody you really loved."

He shot up like a bolt, looking her straight in the eye - and honestly, he looked rather mad.

"How, pray tell, do you know all of this, little miss? How would a child know of her mother's affairs so early in life?"

"_Apparently_," she shot back acidly, "I was old enough to remember. However, it seems that she wasn't really dead all the way back then after all, was she? No, it seems as if she left her child to it's father and went off gallivanting the seas with a dirty great _pirate_ instead!"

Jack pouted, "How would I know if she had a child? She never told me."

"Where did you find her?" Aurolyn demanded furiously, standing up, "Where did you pick her up?"

"Same place I did you," Jack admitted. Aurolyn's eyes grew nearly three sizes.

"_What!?_" she shrieked, "You found my mother in a _tavern_ in_ Tortuga_? _What on earth_ was she doing _there_?"

Jack didn't meet her eyes, and suddenly, she knew.

She sat down quietly onto the bed beside him without meeting the gaze he was shooting her way now - he knew that she knew. Rose hadn't been stupid - her daughter wasn't, either.

"What made her do that," she said hollowly, falling to lay on her back and stare at the ceiling, "what could force her into a situation like that?"

"Aurolyn..."

Jack stood up and held out a hand to her. She looked at it wearily, then took it.

His eyes were doleful and sad as he gazed at her, gazed at their linked hands. They let go.

"Let me show you something," he said quietly. He pulled from one of the many pockets in his frock something shiny and silver. A bracelet.

"Rose gave this to me," said Jack, fingering it lovingly, "before I left her on the island of Tortuga."

"When you were afraid you were going to be mutineered," supplied Aurolyn.

"Aye... and she told me something about it. Vague, you know, but it makes more sense now. She said that it was one of her most cherished things, next to two others. I knew she meant one as me, but I never knew what the other thing was."

Aurolyn's brow furrowed.

"You," Jack raised an eyebrow, "She must've meant you, darling."

"Then why would she..."

"She didn't leave you," he sighed, putting the bracelet back in his pocket and touching Aurolyn's cheek gently, "she was placed on the island. She didn't tell me much, but I knew that a man had placed her on the island. When I found her, she wasn't her own business and it wasn't her own choice. You follow?"

Aurolyn gasped,

"She was - she was - _sold_?"

"By a man she'd signed her life over to without understanding the consequences. Signed by marriage, love."

"But what about my father?" Aurolyn said guardedly, "They were married, he has the ring."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he looked away from her, and she realized what was going through Jack's brain.

"You're father's a tradesman, isn't he?"

Aurolyn had forgotten how to speak. All she could think was,

_Father?_


End file.
